You’ll notice the ratings for this World Cup are highest in the Northeast, where folks try rather hard to look most enlightened. And you may also notice by the time the U.S. team lost to Belgium, some of them had already jumped ship.

LeBron James singularly orchestrated the Big Three union. And now that he has opted out of his Miami Heat contract, he’s once again the Alpha Male of pro sports. Teams are scrambling to find the proper finances and expiring contracts, flipping over cushions for salary cap coin.

In the age of me over we ball, Duncan is a corrupt cliche – a winner.We judge stars by rings more than ever. The Heat didn’t win; LeBron won. Kobe or Shaq won a decade ago. But when the Spurs win, Duncan is part of a greater whole, lost in a selfless, Vulcan coda.

Last night, like every NBA night, morphed into a sweaty, LeBron James symposium. And the firewall between factions is rather defined. He’s either a chump who cheated his team out of a win, or he’s a victim of fate or faulty wiring, a hardwood martyr who can’t get a break.

All eyes and iPhones were on Johnny Manziel, who squirmed in his seat for 21 picks before landing in the wasteland we call Cleveland. He forced a smile and his signature salutation, rubbing his thumb and forefinger, a metaphor for counting his cash.